Wistful Guardian of the Hearth
by MaxRide05
Summary: More solemn than youthful Demeter, yet less prone to spite than ever vengeful Hera, she was regarded as the just of the three Olympian daughters of Kronos and Rhea. She certainly didn't feel just right then; she felt selfish. She should have stayed away.


**Disclaimer: I do not own Greek Mythology (it would be pretty weird if I did).**

As Hestia, consumed by woes, knelt in her customary place by Olympus' hearth she felt as if the flickering orange-red flames lacked their usual spark and crackle. As she tended to them with a light frown gracing her thin lips, the reason for her flames' lacklustre state limped over to her.

She heard his approach (how could one not?) and saw the flames steadily climb higher in an almost dazed state, but she only looked up at his low rumble of, "Hestia."

The frown faded from her lips only to be replaced by a soft smile as she gazed up at the dark-haired, dusky-skinned, fairly muscular Immortal before her who wore a stained dark brown tunic, clutching a twisted, wooden walking staff in his large hand. "Hephaestus." Though she loath to acknowledge it she felt her heart speed up a little beneath her chiton-clad bosom. This was not how an acknowledged virgin Goddess was supposed to react to a male's presence.

Even if said male was simply the crippled son of Zeus and Hera…

Though that didn't… _bother_ Hestia. And even though she knew not who had thrown the baby Hephaestus from Olympus (as both her youngest siblings could be deemed capable of such an unthinkable act) she loathed them both equally for abandoning him.

Alright, perhaps loath was _too_ strong a word…

She recalled the events of the day before, when young Dionysus had led Hephaestus through Olympus, to the very room they both resided in at that moment, to free his mother Hera from the golden throne.

Just as she had yesterday Hestia smiled warmly at Hephaestus, and though her dark green eyes were lit with a touch of warmth and compassion they were also wide and nervous.

How she wished he wasn't to marry _her_. No offence to Aphrodite of course (or at least not much) but the self-absorbed goddess wasn't exactly wife material.

Apprehension flickered in the smith's fiery eyes as he stared back, head tilted and lips slightly pursed. She pondered that before remembering the aftermath of Hephaestus' request yesterday eve, which could possibly be the source of his unease.

"_I want…" The forger's deep voice paused for the barest hint of a second and Hestia, intrigued despite herself, stood slowly from the blazing hearth, before she glided across to where her youngest brother sat upon his hastily constructed throne which sat beside Hera's own. She didn't care if she had to spend even a month arguing his case; she would ensure that the smith received whatever he requested (within reason of course). His parents owed him, not only that much, but more. _

_Hestia briefly saw Demeter's emerald eyes flicker towards her before they both looked back towards the crippled son of Zeus, whose dark eyes, which had followed her smooth movement from her hearth to her brother's throne, still lingered upon her. Slightly mystified, she smiled at him encouragingly before he looked back towards the God who did not deserve to be called his father. "I want a wife."_

_Hestia's heart jumped as a cold, horrifyingly familiar feeling washed over her… _

_Marriage – she winced – was not an idea she liked to consider. The idea of being owned by a man – her _husband _made her feel quite ill and irate. (Despite herself she began to wonder if _he'd_ be different – he certainly seemed to be.)_

_Much as she'd hoped it was a mere coincidence, she had to be one of the few who'd shown him kindness since he'd arrived in, what was to him, a strange, unfamiliar place, full of stranger, unfamiliar people. The others perhaps treated him indifferently, or with fleeting, hidden whispers of admiration and respect, or perhaps with disgust and poorly-veiled cruel laughter…_

_She frowned sharply, fears of marriage forgotten, and then laid eyes on Demeter who stood tall beside her, full lips still curved into an almost affectionate smile. Hestia smiled as a warm glow swelled her throbbing heart. _

_Demeter, her kind-hearted, ever pleasant sister, who was sought after by more Immortals than Hestia herself had ever been, both before her status as a virgin Goddess and after, hadn't looked upon Hephaestus with anything but kindness since he'd arrived. Just the same as Hestia herself. It just wasn't in their nature to be snide for no good reason. _

_Dionysus too, for all his inexperience at godly hood, and his drunken wildness (or was it perhaps wild drunkenness?), wouldn't have been cruel or spiteful to him either. After all she wouldn't have given her throne up for him, if he was that sort of god._

"_Is that all?" Zeus' almost ludicrous tone drew her from her thoughts of the 'young' Wine God with dark, curly locks that were never tamed, and constantly falling into his madly gleaming eyes and a slowly curving grin that could stike fear - or some feeling akin to it - into the hearts of even the most courageous._

"_Yes."_

"_Very well. The matter shall be discussed, and the official verdict delivered tomorrow the second hour after sunrise." The gathered then took their leave though few Olympians lingered, their curious eyes trained on Hephaestus who was watching his parents and their siblings converse._

_Demeter leaned towards Hera, who, even though she was now free to, hadn't stood from her beautifully crafted throne, as dangerous as it still (potentially) was. "Who do you think should marry him?"_

_Hades – who for some unfathomable reason was present at a gathering that wasn't to do with political affairs – spoke low, so as to not be heard by Poseidon who stood nearby, "Did you not see how he and Hestia looked at one another?" The corner of his mouth curved up in a sly, minuscule smirk as twin pools of pure darkness flicked her way. _

_Just what was he doing? Perhaps he was bored with the affairs of his realm and wished to revel in the drama upon Olympus..?  
_

_Hestia felt her face flush as she opened __and closed __her mouth repeatedly. _

_Demeter, the only other to openly acknowledge her presence, turned and caught her gaze while smiling widely. As much as marriage had never appealed to the two older daughters of Kronos at the start of the Silver Age that seemed to have changed for the darker-haired of the two. While Demeter had her young daughter Persephone and was quite comfortable with motherhood she still had Gods after her hand (and the occasional, less honourable male after her body). Now she seemed not only more tolerable towards marriage _but_ she'd also caught the attention of a son of Zeus.__ One of his Immortal__ sons no less. Not good. One only had to think what happened with Iasion to know that. _

_Hera murmured in thought, before saying, "I suppose..."_

"_What?" Hestia breathed before her olive-skinned sister could continue. When Hera turned and caught her gaze briefly Hestia saw in her eyes that she only wanted her more solitary sister to be happy. She never had agreed with Hestia's decision to give up her throne for Dionysus, going as far as to verbally protest against her decision in front of the other Olympians, _whilst_ insulting Dionysus. Demeter, meanwhile, had looked towards Hestia and nodded with sad acceptance shining in her dark emerald eyes._

_Zeus finally turned his stormy eyes towards her, "Do you not think that the two of you would be good together?" Hestia wondered vaguely if Hephaestus had heard his low murmur as she could see his widening eyes flickering from Zeus to her, lingering once more upon her._

_A lump formed in her throat and her voice came out quietly when she finally managed to say, "I took an oath, brother." But if she could take it back… _

_Hera looked towards her discreetly, her voice even quieter that Hestia's own had been, "You could marry and remain a virgin."_

"_I-I couldn't do that." Her cheeks took on a deeper blush before slowly - _slowly_ - returning to their previous creamy white tone. _She wouldn't do that_, Hestia stated further in her mind. If just locking eyes with the younger son of the King and Queen of heavens made her blush than how would she handle herself if they married?_

_If they married and all she could live for was his kisses, his warm, gentle touch? She would never feel so powerless in all her life if that happened, because then she'd never wish for them to be parted. Not even for an hour. _

_Her knees felt weak at the thought (and from the way he was looking at her at that moment)._

_She closed her eyes then bowed her head, collecting her hazy thoughts, willing the fire within her to subside to a smoulder. _

_When she looked his way she was thankful to see Poseidon hadn't been following the conversation as he'd been too busy… _conversing_ with a nymph. Even though he was now practically married it wouldn't have been… wise for him to have heard the conversation. The reason she'd taken the oath in the first place had been to cease his and Apollo's fighting for her hand. Though it had been many a year since he'd sought her affections. And since her oath he had seemed to pursue Demeter instead, and for that she'd been both immensely thankful and deeply worried. _

"_Very well." Zeus murmured just before he said the words that made her heart falter and her throat constrict. "My son, your wife shall be Aphrodite, Goddess of love and Beauty."_

_And then chaos had reigned once more within the court. _

Most considered Hestia to be a mysterious one, taking after her younger (older?) brother Hades, though less… unfeeling. More solemn than youthful Demeter, yet less prone to spite than ever vengeful Hera, she was regarded as the just of the three Olympian daughters of Kronos and Rhea.

She certainly didn't feel just right then; she felt selfish. Because she really should distance herself from Hephaestus, she knew she should, but she wasn't. She could not.

Hephaestus' hair, darkened from his time in the forges, fell into his eyes and around his ears messily. His eyes had been so dark and expressive yesterday upon his arrival, yet the moment they'd locked upon her own his gaze had softened and she'd felt as if her insides had melted to liquid.

The feeling certainly wasn't going to evade her anytime soon.

She looked away from him and towards the hearth, the fire still burning with a brightness that enthralled her. The fire had never burned so strongly before. Hestia looked back to Hephaestus. Who was this man who could make her feel that which she'd never felt before?

She tucked long, unkempt strands of brown hair, which looked almost auburn in the fiery light, behind her ear, then stood.

"I-uh…I." Hephaestus started, biting his lip, eyebrows drawing together. He obviously wasn't used to being in the company of someone he'd met not a day before, someone not a robotic creation of his.

Her smile never wavered as she stepped towards him, hand reaching up to brush away strands of dark hair from his furrowing forehead. Her eyes followed the trail of her fingers from his now unfurrowed forehead to the curve of his cheek. She cupped his cheek in her palm and looked into his eyes.

"Two days," He whispered solemnly. Two days until he married _her_.

"I know." Hestia said. "I know you are nervous. That's alright. But-but it will happen. You will be her husband and she your wife." She hoped he didn't notice the waver in her voice at those last words.

"But I don't want…" He trailed off, eyes filled with flames. Flames of the hearth.

"I know." She breathed in a soft exhale, "But it cannot be." They could not be...

He looked ready to argue but then seemed to change his mind. "I wish it was different."

She pursued her lips then nodded, "And I too wish it were. But… But it is not. We must accept that." She could see from the clench in his jaw he did not want to. He wanted to fight for her. Like Apollo and Poseidon.

Her eyes sought out the flames of the hearth once more. It wasn't such a strange sight anymore; to see the flames reaching up that high, with no limit. Except perhaps the ceiling…

Her lips twitched at the thought.

She wondered if just kissing his cheek swiftly would be too much for Hephaestus (and herself) to resist. Then he did something quite daring considering who could have looked in and seen them.

He leaned forward and pressed his lips, not to her cheek, but to the corner of her mouth. Her heart skipped a beat. He pulled back slowly, eyes downcast. A smile crept its way to her face which was still so close to his that she could feel his breath on her nose and lips.

Hestia dimly recalled her first, and only, kiss with Poseidon. It'd been a while after they'd escaped their father's stomach and he'd simply come up to her. There'd be no one else close by when he'd clamped his hands onto her shoulders saying in a curiously low tone (that she now knew was because of his inexperience at seduction, having only tried it on two people before in his life – his two older sisters) how wonderful she'd been and how he didn't know how to repay her.

Which she'd found odd considering how close he'd seemed to Demeter, in the stomach of Kronos, what with him always sleeping with his head in her lap, and not by any choice of Demeter's either by what she'd observed. Demeter, who'd been kind to every one of her siblings (youngest and oldest) in _there,_ hadn't paid Poseidon any more attention then she had the rest of them. Unless he'd done something to get her attention that is.

And then he'd crushed his lips to hers. It had been an experience Hestia had wished never to repeat again.

Yet now she found herself, not only considering it, but wanting it to happen.

It was almost scary. _Almost_.

She glanced at the entrances, then seeing and hearing no one, she leaned forward slowly, her hand still on his cheek. He looked at her with smouldering eyes before she felt his fingers brush against the small of her back, as if he was contemplating placing his hand there. As if he was scared. But she couldn't imagine him being scared of anything.

And she told him as much before their lips moulded against each other's. Before they were lost in a haze-like atmosphere of fire and heat.

**A/N: Please do not fav without reviewing.**


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